Stairway to the Sun
by Ambarlost
Summary: "The best way out is always through." -Robert Frost.  Jogan fic based off of Dalton by CP Coulter.  Crimelords!AU


**Stairway to the Sun- a Jogan fic**

**Crimelords!AU**

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><p>"I want out." The words instantly froze the air between the two men, cracking and shattering as they fell.<p>

The seated man remained motionless, his clear-cut features like frozen marble, barely visible in the heavy shadows layering across the room. Then he slowly exhaled, his lips barely parting to allow the breath past.

"You… want out."

There was a nod from the slighter man, who leaned against the desk, his every movement speaking of a fluid grace.

Below him, darkened green eyes finally opened to look at him, starting at his feet and sliding upwards to finally lock on his, each tense second like a lingering physical touch, too hungry for any facade of innocence.

"I'm afraid that's not possible," he said slowly.

"Well," the other said after a pause. "Not the answer I was hoping for, but not unexpected either." He slid closer along the edge of the desk, allowing those eyes to follow him.

Neither doubted that it was entirely deliberately.

"Oh, please, Logan. We both know I'm just as good as you. We both know I'm one of your underlings because I chose it. We both know you have no real authority to order me around." He moved in even closer, hovering just beyond where fingertips rested on the cold, gunmetal-black chair arm. "No matter how much you may wish that you do."

Logan stayed silent, continuing to watch him with those horribly familiar eyes. One blink, but no words, as he reached out just enough to slip past Julian's signature gloves and press his fingers against the inside of Julian's wrist.

One second.

Two.

Three.

Still nothing.

Four.

Five.

Six.

In the silence, the ticking clock sounded unbearably drawn-out, each second falling with a jolt, like it had forgotten to count and was dropping the seconds at the very last moment.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

Four.

Five seconds.

Six seconds.

One second.

Two.

"Don't go there, Logan," Julian said, his mouth feeling dry and strange as he snatched for a false bravado. "You won't reach me like that."

But it did affect him, even tangibly.

Logan could undoubtedly feel his pulse begin to quicken under warm fingertips that calmly reminded him of where he began and ended.

"You can't keep me, Logan. People aren't toys and you can't just do what you want."

The barest hint of a flicker in Logan's eyes was his only response, but in the tension-filled room, it was like a scornful shout, and when he finally spoke, it was like a gunshot.

"Don't presume you have any idea what I do or do not want."

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><p><em>He had never realised how loud a gun was.<em>

_His ears rang._

_His body shook._

_His head spun._

_Logan stood six feet away, his face white, but his hands steady as he kept the almost toy-like gun extended in front of him, beads of blood drop drop dropping from an ugly slash in his forearm._

_And at his feet, a man with too-bleached hair lay in a pool of blood with a gaping hole in his head._

_You'd have expected the wound to be smooth, as if clearly created with a hole puncher._

_It wasn't._

_Bone-white fragments poked through the jagged edges and mangled flesh that had been shredded from its natural state. A glimpse of some greyish matter was barely visible through the thick, dark liquid spilling out._

_A feeble hand plucked uselessly at Julian's ankle, even as the man convulsed with dying spasms._

"_Don't- don't-" Julian tried to say, transfixed by the blood trickling from blue-ish lips._

"_Don't touch him," Logan said for him, his voice low and fierce. "Julian, come here."_

_But his breath was starting to come in shuddering little gasps and there was something dark, sticky, and wet splattered on him, reeking of life and where it no longer existed._

"_I- I can't-"_

_Logan was by his side in three long strides._

"_It's okay, Jules. I'm here." Finally lowering the gun, he wrapped his arms around Julian, practically holding him up, until Julian's once crisp shirt was just as stained with red as his._

"_How many cuts did you get?" Julian muttered, his words muffled against Logan's neck._

"_The blood isn't all mine." Logan tucked Julian's head under his chin. "Just at the arm and abdomen."_

"_God, there's more?" Julian pulled back, but Logan's arms stayed around him, giving him only just enough room to run his hands over the gash running in a crooked line across bloody skin. All too soon, his hands were stained a vivid scarlet that never really washed out._

"_Jules," Logan sighed. "Stay here with me. Just stay."_

* * *

><p>Julian rolled his eyes contemptuously. "Saving your majesty, Derek and I know you best. I think I have some idea of what you want."<p>

"We can discuss this later-"

"You're assuming there will be a later."

"I know there will be a later."

_It's okay, Jules. I'm here._

"No, Logan," Julian said simply. "There won't." He closed his eyes, shying away from a searching gaze that tore into him with too much force, like everything Logan ever did. "Logan, stop."

"Stop what?"

"Stop looking at me like that."

"I have no idea what you mean."

_I mean, stop looking at me with eyes that finally see me. Stop looking at me like you're trying to read every inch of me, to know my thoughts and wants. Stop looking at me like you don't want me to go._

"You'll be alright on your own," Julian said curtly, abruptly standing up and walking away, and although Logan didn't follow, the heat of his presence remained, pervading the room.

"I won't." Julian flinched at that. "I need you here. I'm no good without you," Logan continued.

"Don't pretend that it matters. There is no 'us.' We're not some team. We're not even friends. We used to be associates and, as of now, we aren't. That's all."

Cool green eyes showed no reaction, but flicked down to lying lips.

"What are you trying to deny, Julian?"

"I'm not denying anything. There isn't anything to deny."

He could feel it before it happened.

That was a mistake. He had gone too far, said too much, and Logan cared more than ever, now.

"Damn it all!" The words exploded from Logan as he shot to his feet, hands catching up his heavy chair to send it arcing through the air, smashing into the door. Fragments of plaster fluttered down amid the gouges and spiderweb cracks skittering out of deeper ones, but Logan didn't even glance back, instead striding forwards to immediately before Julian. His hands slammed flat against the wall on either side of Julian's head, even as he stepped much too close. The heat, fury, and underlying need radiating from him rolled off in waves that swept through Julian, who raised his chin delicately in a glinting defiance.

"You don't know me anymore, Lo," he breathed, the intimate name more of an insult than the whispering words could ever be, like a slap in the face from the polished, perfect, and infinitely damned hands of an addictive mistress.

Logan's eyes dropped, the glimpse of green a spark in the silence, as his gaze trailed down Julian's face and throat, wanting without pretense. When he spoke, it was for Julian's ears only, every word caught under the weight of the air between them.

"I know every part of you more than anyone ever will, and I know you are going to choose to stay, because I'm going to change your mind." His hand slipped away, skimming down the length of Julian's body, brushing by his clothes without truly touching him, falling to hook a finger questioningly in the hem of the unmoving body's shirt before him, save for soft, shaky breathing.

So close.

An almost.

Like that night he'd held Julian in his arms and murmured foolish adorations in his ears, feeling nothing but a desperate need to make him look up into his eyes, so he could just know that he was alive, that his heart was still beating, his lungs still breathing, and, fuck, he was so damn beautiful.

So damn unbelievable.

In those jittery seconds when the knife had slashed unbearably close to Julian, Logan had seen something strange with feverish sight, seen a figure shining so bright and so damn brilliant that his eyes had positively ached from it.

He had been so warm and alive, there, so close to Logan, and when he'd finally looked up to let Logan carefully brush the hair out of his face, the battered, bleeding man still saw a luminescence faintly clinging to hallowed hands and form.

He'd almost kissed Julian.

Almost.

He'd wanted to taste that light, taste it on his tongue and lips and deep within him.

He'd wanted to kiss Julian, because it was Jules he was holding, and he'd never remembered anyone or anything mattering more.

Almost.

He'd almost kissed him.

But it was only an almost.

Like that next day, when Julian had walked into his "office" without warning, lips twisted into a mocking grin and hands covered with thin, leather gloves impeccably fitted to long, lovely fingers. He had said simply that he would follow Logan in his path of crime.

Logan almost said, "No."

He had almost said, "Don't."

He had almost told Julian the truth: that it would kill him to see those golden eyes wide and broken again, the way they had looked the other night.

That he would do anything to protect them from ever looking like that again.

Almost.

Yet another almost.

Instead, there had only been an answering smirk and a "I thought you would come around." A pause. "Any plans for what you'll use? No? Then take mine."

He'd killed that _almost_ and paid with years of blood on gloved hands and eyes that grew colder, all the while filling with something terrible underneath.

Trust.

Love.

The promise of a new almost.

"Tell me you won't. Tell me to stop. Tell me 'no,' " he said with a low, roughened voice, so quietly that Julian unconsciously pushed closer to hear. "Yes or no, Julian. I won't force you. You have to say it. Please, God, just say it, you have to say it-"

"Yes." Julian hissed through gritted teeth as Logan's hand jerked upwards, ripping his shirt, to rest inexplicably gently above his heart. "Yes, damn you, yes."

Logan sighed, the warmth of his breath spreading slowly across Julian's skin. "Why do you always say yes, you damn innocent?"

"Didn't you know I would say that?"

"I had hoped enough," Logan said slowly, lifting Julian's chin with gentle fingers, "for you to say no, that I almost believed you would."

"I'm sick of your bullshit," Julian whispered, even as Logan pressed soft kisses along his clenched jaw.

"Liar. You know it's true."

"Killer, Logan. Murderer. Don't mix up your sins. You can't save me."

Logan drew back sharply, his eyes narrowing. "Do you think I don't know that? I made you, Julian, and I can't take it back. I dragged you down with me, but, fuck, I will not let you go."

"For God's sake, Logan. I'm not your fault. I chose this."

"Liar," Logan said once more. "You came when I left you with no choice, no matter how it may have appeared."

"The deaths are my own sins."

"But they're on my hands, too, from the very beginning when I placed the gun in your hands."

"Fine. You damned me. Is that what you need to hear? I never would have become this, if it weren't for you."

"And I say _mea culpa_, but Julian…" Logan sank down to his knees; eyes locked on Julian's, who was mesmerized by the blazing green fire within. "I can't let my salvation leave me."

Julian's eyes rolled back in his head and his hands tightened in golden hair as Logan played him like a masterful musician with a precious instrument, each touch winding him tighter until he was strained to the point of breaking.

And when he would have collapsed if not for Logan holding him up, his eyes heavy and dazed, he still pulled Logan closer, who kissed him hungrily, lapping up his mewls and trembling breaths while hands relentlessly undid him in his over-sensitized state.

He drank in each sensation and touch, overwhelmed and overcome, slipping in and out of Logan's words that only reached his hearing seconds after being spoken, words simultaneously of adulation and possession.

He begged, unapologetic in his need, but though Logan's kisses were harsh, he refused to rush the preparation, until Julian's tenuous grasp on what was real and what was not dimmed, coming down only to the body pressed up to his, the voice whispering in his ear, and the fingers within him that stretched and crooked, dragging whimpers and soft sounds of need from him until his throat was raw. His language reduced to "_Logan_" and "_fuck_", his hips snapped forwards in shock at the unannounced penetration of Logan's cock, and, God, it was so full, so hot and thick in him. His mouth worked in a silent scream, lips wrapped around Logan's name, as the golden-haired, green-eyed man thrust into him rhythmically, but, fuck, _hard_.

It was a reverent ferocity, a worshipping desire, an adoration inherent in something larger, deeper, and craggier than a rough fuck.

It was that Logan was within him, was a part of him, paradoxical and uncontrollable. It was the unwavering flame of Logan's glimmering green eyes that never looked away, both taunting and longing with things not uttered until Julian shook with the intensity that tore him to pieces.

It was that all things will come to fall apart and so did Julian, in ways undefined by language and immense thoughts.

So it goes.

"I would miss you if you left," Logan said softly, his lips pressed to Julian's forehead like a blessing.

Julian didn't move, quietly willing away the beginnings of tears that stung his eyes and blurred the sight before him of the one person who transcended the graspable. "How much more do you need to take?" he whispered. "I'm barely here, Logan. I'm suspended by a thread that will snap at any second."

"You have no idea how much you are, do you?" Logan's hand flattened against the small of Julian's back in a touch that only reminded him of his fragility. "One day, we'll walk away from all this. We'll find a house on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea. We'll have windows that are windows, large and circular, with pillowed seats you can curl up in. In the mornings, I'll bring you songs and all the gentleness you deserve that I've never given. At night, I'll be the last thing that you see and the first thing when you wake. We'll find the world at our fingertips and throw it all away for one more evening of light and laughter. Wait with me until then. If you leave now, I won't find you again."

"Pretty words, Logan, but they don't _mean_ anything. You can't reclaim innocence."

Logan's arms tightened around Julian, rolling onto his back and pulling Julian on top of him to take in the exquisite lines of his face, neck, and shoulders. "I've defied so much already, Julian. What's another so-called truth? I refuse to accept anything that would claim you."

"Try getting to know time, Logan."

An exultant smile curved across Logan's lips, more brilliant than the answering sun beginning to fall into the room, full of the endless culmination of humanity's pride and will. "There is no time here, Julian. Don't profane yourself with meaningless lies fed to you by centuries of failure and weakness. You and I- we are infinite."

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><p><strong>AN: God, I'm pretentious. So I've noticed that my stories are edging closer and closer to smut these days. I blame Tumblr. You guys are fucking contagious. (Don't worry; I love it.) Thanks for reading. Reviews would be awfully nice.**


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